<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Lifeline by heelipabo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28092522">Lifeline</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/heelipabo/pseuds/heelipabo'>heelipabo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A little bit of everything, A tribute to Lolo's Share Your Address because that fic is amazing and she's a one talented lady, Angst, Blackmailed into writing this by Lolo + Discord lol, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Kaysanova AU, Keane, M/M, Minor Violence, References to Alcohol, References to Canon, References to Drugs, Smut, The Old Guard - Freeform, tog - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:15:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28092522</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/heelipabo/pseuds/heelipabo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sit still,” Joe tells him with a faint hint of a smile that nearly makes Nicky sob in relief.</p><p>“Your hands are on me,” Nicky replies as if that’s supposed to be a fine justification. And well, it <i>is.</i></p><p>Joe huffs through his nose. “No kissing for a while, I’m afraid,” he says and pecks Nicky on his forehead when he’s done applying the ointment. Nicky, ever a stubborn man, reaches his neck up to chase after Joe’s lips, but the man leans back with a smirk just in time.</p><p>Nicky frowns. “That’s not fair.”</p><p>Joe folds his arms across his chest and looks at his boyfriend with the go-to amused grin. Nicky is so happy to see it that within seconds he stops caring about the missed make-out opportunity.</p><p>“What’s not fair is you wearing my hoodie. <i>Again.</i>”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>238</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lifeline</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleLo/gifts">Lolo (TheLittleLo)</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889131">Share Your Address</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleLo/pseuds/Lolo">Lolo (TheLittleLo)</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have been coerced by my Discord group with <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleLo/pseuds/Lolo">Lolo</a> at the helm to turn a tiny snippet I once sent to her into a legitimate oneshot. (Not that I needed much convincing tbh.)</p><p>Consider this a tribute/sequel of sorts to Lolo's absolutely amazing <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889131/chapters/62911168">Share Your Address</a> fic that I am <i>STILL</i> unable to stop thinking about. Well done man, you've ruined me.<br/>In other words, this is me trying to cheer you up in the only way I can. I just hope it doesn't suck.</p><p>Also, a round of applause to my lovely beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiaya/works">Kiaya</a>. You rock, girl!<br/>(Lolo will totally think we conspired against her lol)</p><p>Another thanks goes to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellyflori/pseuds/mellyflori">Mellyflori</a> for helping me figure out some umm... plot stuff : ) Can't say much without giving things away, sorry! :D</p><p> </p><p><b>Anyway, this little gremlin story is my way of serving Keane exactly what he deserves.</b><br/>You're welcome : ) Buckle up and enjoy the ride.<br/><br/>(Pst, you can find me on Tumblr where I shit-post about Joe&amp;Nicky: <a href="https://heelipabo.tumblr.com/">heelipabo</a>.)<br/><br/>The title is inspired by my 2nd fav song of all times: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g27MhPhQahk&amp;ab_channel=Brukyvk">Lifeline by Angels &amp; Airways.</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Settling into a routine with Joe once Nicky moves in feels no different than what they have already been accustomed to. </p><p>The only novelty, nay a hindrance, comes from Nicky completely taking over Joe’s tiny kitchen as his own personal battlefield. He <i>will</i> get a handle on the cramped space and makes a point of threatening Joe with a pair of tongs whenever his boyfriend tries to halt Nicky’s attempts to tame the chaos.</p><p>He has a sneaking suspicion Joe only picks on him because he likes to see Nicky flustered, which is something he later gladly rectifies by taking him slowly apart in their bed, in the shower or any other surface capable of hosting their writhing bodies. </p><p>
  <i>Damn sneaky bastard.</i>
</p><p>One such occurrence has taken place mere hours ago and Nicky still feels sore all over as he stretches in the bed. His muscles spasm in protest, reminding him to go gentle, but he’s nowhere near regretting putting his body through such taxing physical activity. Nicky smiles as he rubs his aching waist, tracing the ghost touch of Joe’s tight grasp from last night. </p><p>He meets no resistance when he rolls over to the left side of the bed. He runs his hands over the material, frowning at a glaring lack of Joe beside him. The bed sheets feel cold, telling him it’s been a while since Joe left their flat to go on his morning jog. Nicky vaguely recalls peering out and mumbling something, face squished on the pillow, as his boyfriend crawled out of bed. He’s almost sure there was a kiss involved too.</p><p>Nicky applauds his boyfriend’s resolve to go running before seven in the morning on a Saturday. He finally gets out of the bed as well, with no small amount of sighs and winces as his body gets used to the new position. He’s actually more sore than usual and he’s already thinking of ways to bribe Joe later today into giving him a massage. If the past experience is any indication, all it will take is Nicky biting his lower lip and Joe will be as good as hooked.</p><p>True to his nature, it doesn’t take Nicky that long to kick off the day. His insomnia hasn’t really been a problem recently, but he never fails to get restless the moment his brain switches from sleep to consciousness. Still, it’s a bit early for him to be up at this time on his day off. But he sees the positive in it and vows to use the extra few hours catching up on grading papers he should have gone through last night. </p><p>Joe is entirely at blame for the distraction.</p><p>Nicky chuckles to himself and lets the image of his ridiculous boyfriend strolling out of the bathroom with only a towel around him. He reminisces in the way Joe’s still steamy skin felt under Nicky’s fingertips, all soft and warm and <i>delicious</i>, or how he twitched when Nicky unwrapped his towel and slowly dipped to his knees in front of him.</p><p>It’s not the piping-hot coffee he’s pouring into a mug that makes his cheek flush a violent shade of pink. His boxers suddenly feel all too tight, despite them being Joe’s and at least a size up than what Nicky normally wears. He shakes his head and steadies his hand while he fills up the mug, somehow succeeding not to spill coffee all over himself.</p><p>Nicky turns around and leans against the counter, mug in hand, pondering over what to make for breakfast He’s weighing his options between scrambled eggs and a nice four-layered peanut butter and jam sandwich. Or better yet, pancakes. He’s in the process of getting Joe used to more refined food than stale granola bars he keeps stashed in his gym bag, which makes anything Nicky prepares for him a feast for kings in comparison.</p><p>He’s just about ready to set his mind on a full English breakfast when a bang on the front door startles him. Nicky does spill his hot coffee then, the slush luckily missing his bare chest entirely and landing on his boxers instead. He curses under his breath, sets the mug aside and dabs the stain with a napkin but that doesn’t really help much. </p><p>Another thud on the door and some muffled mumbling stops his hand short in mild annoyance.</p><p>Realizing he’s hardly wearing anything, he looks around for any piece of clothing to throw on. Despite his now foul mood, he still laughs when the first thing his eyes land on is the balled up gray <i>OGC Fencing hoodie</i> in a small bean bag chair in the corner of the open space that is their apartment. He picks it up without a second thought, but can’t find the matching sweatpants anywhere near him.</p><p>He moves to put on the hoodie he’s long claimed as his but is once again momentarily stopped in his tracks by a very incessant and growing in volume banging on the front door. This time though, it’s accompanied by a string of drunken curses. Granted he can’t make out all the words but the context is pretty clear.</p><p>“.. fuck you think you are…” someone continues their ramble and Nicky freezes with one arm raised right before he is about to put it through a sleeve. He’d recognize that leech of a voice anywhere. </p><p>
  <i>Keane.</i>
</p><p>“Joe- Joey- let me in!” The man yells and bangs on the door some more. </p><p>Nicky finishes putting the hoodie on and sighs, his energy drained as his least favorite person on Earth has just spoiled his entire weekend. “Go away,” he says as he walks toward the door. </p><p>There’s a momentary silence, as if in hesitation. Then the banging and yelling comes back in full force, even angrier this time. </p><p>“Is that your boy toy?” Keane yells in between bangs and amidst a series of hiccups. </p><p>Nicky raises his open palm and hits the door once in a warning. “I said, <i>go away.</i>” </p><p>Of course, his attempt to diffuse the situation backfires and now apart from punches against the wooden surface, there’s also some kicking involved with no indication of ever subsiding. </p><p>Nicky almost turns around to completely ignore the other man and go about his day, but Keane just keeps getting louder and louder. He is attacking the door with enough force to break it down and wake up all the residents of the building. </p><p>Nicky groans and despite his better judgment, opens the door. </p><p>Keane is slumped on the other side, one hand gripping a half-emptied bottle of cheap whiskey. The other hand is still raised, about to bang on the door again. He tries to but is only met with air and no surface resistance. He almost falls forward, thrown off by the momentum of his swing. Nicky narrowly misses his hand, his instincts kicking in just in time, and then stands in the doorway with both arms crossed over his chest. </p><p>Nicky puts on his most stern face and hopes it’s intimidating enough to scare off an A-class prick like Keane. His efforts are met with a very confused look of a drunkard and Nicky is surprised the man can even see him through the glazed over eyes.</p><p>“Joe. Give me Joe.” There’s a threatening finger pointed at Nicky but it loses its effect due to the constant comical swaying of its owner.</p><p>Nicky barks a dry laugh at that. “So you can abuse him again? Fat chance, asshole.”</p><p>It’s unlike for Nicky to swear, but this specific individual in front of him triggers something inside him, an almost murderous animalistic rage. It should probably concern him to be able to conjure such emotions but at this exact moment, he’s not sure if he would feel guilty if he acted on them.</p><p>“He made a mistake,” Keane says as he stumbles.</p><p>Nicky inhales deeply, trying very hard not to throw him down the flight of stairs.</p><p>“The only one who made a mistake was you by treating Joe like shit. And now he’s so much better off without you tearing him apart.”</p><p>Keane makes an attempt to straighten up just before he takes a swig from the open bottle of whiskey, letting most of it spill down his chin. What a way to put Nicky off ever drinking that particular alcohol for the rest of his life.</p><p>“You’re nothing to him,” Keane says and Nicky laughs again at how mismatched that statement is. If anything, he should be saying that to Keane.</p><p>Putting on his best fake smile, Nicky leans forward and says, “Oh honey. I’m <i>everything</i> to him.”</p><p>Nicky is done with this fairly pointless scene; he steps back into the apartment and goes to close the door. And maybe he would have been successful had Keane's instincts suddenly didn't kick in as he sticks his foot in between the door and the frame.</p><p>He doesn’t cease his efforts to close the door but it all comes to a sudden stop when Keane pushes forward one more time, tearing through Nicky’s only line of defense. His expression breaks into a mask of rage and he growls as his fisted hand goes up and lands on Nicky’s face. Two blows in quick succession, knocking Nicky backwards from the force. The hits instantly cause a throbbing in the left corner of his lips. He feels something warm and wet on his face and he realizes with a delay he’s bleeding. Nicky brings his hand to his mouth and sure enough when he pulls it back, his fingers are stained red. </p><p>Even though he was never the aggressive type, now all Nicky wants to do is replace Keane’s foot between the door and the frame with his head. Then he could slam it repeatedly until Keane drops dead like the piece of trash he is. </p><p>He doesn’t get to. His next door neighbor Mike, clearly awoken by the noise, emerges onto the hallway. He’s a big intimidating man with a baseball bat raised and ready to strike. Gone is the smile he offers Nicky whenever he brings him some food, a product of Nicky’s eagerness to cook as much as he can for Joe with a real possibility of leftovers.</p><p>Mike conveys the scene and his expression turns murderous when he sees Nicky’s bloody face. He switches his attention to Keane, the bat winding up in his hands.</p><p>“Better get out of here boy or I’ll fuck you up,” he growls and somehow that does get Keane to move away from the door but not before throwing a final glare Nicky’s way. It’s nearly as effective as his wobbly threatening finger from a moment ago. </p><p>Keane is back to being all drunkenly slumped over and he’s not making any sense anymore. He mumbles something before finally walking away. The neighbor doesn’t go back in until Keane disappears down the hallway and then looks back at Nicky, his brows pulled. </p><p>“You okay?” He asks and Nicky nods weakly. </p><p>“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for intervening, Mike,” Nicky says, wincing at how his lips sting from the cut. He restrains himself from swiping his tongue over the wound, not willing to get whatever bacteria he inadvertently received from Keane’s knuckles. Who knows where those hands have been. </p><p>“No worries. Let me know if he comes back. I’ll gladly beat his ass.” </p><p>“I’ll be sure to guide him your way.”</p><p>Mike points with his chin at Nicky’s wound. “You better let Joe take a look at that.”</p><p>Nicky nods again and retreats back to his apartment.</p><p>Once the door shuts behind him, Nicky leans on it with all his weight, his head heavy and legs a shaky mess. He laughs dryly after a moment, not fully yet believing this whole thing just took place. His face is throbbing all over though and he can’t stop moving his jaw to confirm that yes, it <i>did</i> just happen. </p><p>He spends the next twenty minutes in the bathroom, cleaning himself up. He’s long lost appetite for breakfast and he highly doubts he will be able to get at least a sliver of food in for the rest of the day.</p><p>His mouth, apart from sporting a large cut on the bottom lip, is already forming a large bruise. Nicky wets a clean towel under cold water and presses it to his lips, hissing at the sensation. The material grows warm rather quickly though, so he goes to the kitchen to fetch himself a bag of frozen peas. </p><p>A wince escapes his throat when the glacial pack makes contact with his flushed face. It’s no use to apply it only to his lips and instead he slowly laids it out on the entire throbbing left side.</p><p>With half a thought, Nicky glances over at the kitchen clock. The door will open any minute now and he’ll be greeted with the blinding smile of his lover. The smile that will fade the moment he sees Nicky.</p><p>
  <i>Joe. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Fuck, I have to tell Joe.</i>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>No more than five minutes passes and there’s a jingle of keys at the door. Joe whistles a familiar tune as he steps in, which is something he usually does after a good run. Nicky’s heart tightens, knowing he's about to put a damper on his boyfriend’s excellent mood.</p><p>Joe has yet to realize something is terribly wrong - he’s busy locking the door and doesn’t see Nicky perched on the edge of their bed and holding the bag of peas to his face. The apartment is small though, so when he finally turns around he’s immediately confronted with the sight of his broken lover. </p><p>Joe’s face changes from the look of satisfied post-run exhaustion to that of worry and confusion. He closes the distance between them and crouches in front of Nicky, his palms on Nicky’s knees. </p><p>“What happened?” He asks and Nicky reluctantly pulls the pack of peas away to reveal the nasty cut. The sudden lack of cold pressure makes him instantly dizzy but he tries to keep it together for Joe’s sake.</p><p>Joe sucks in his breath and raises his hand to very gently rub his fingers over Nicky’s jaw, carefully avoiding the wound. </p><p>“Keane happened,” Nicky replies, his voice coarse. </p><p>His chest is tight and he realizes he’s holding back the tears. He wants to -no, needs to- let them spill, but in doing so he will bring Joe pain. So he sniffles once and takes a deep calming breath. He goes to say something more but then just shakes his head in defeat and his shoulders slump, dropping his hand and the bag of peas along with it. </p><p>Joe’s face is an indescribable mask for a moment until his jaw clenches. His eyebrows pull together and he starts to breath heavily. The one hand not currently cupping Nicky’s face tightens on Nicky’s knee before it curls into a fist.</p><p>“I’ll kill him,” Joe manages to say through gritted teeth as his expression keeps flashing between fury for Keane and concern for Nicky. </p><p>Nicky laughs without humor. “Get in line.”</p><p>Joe goes quiet again, gaze roaming over Nicky’s face as if in search for something. Whether he finds it or not, the very next second he wraps Nicky in a gentle hug, bringing his hand up his back to rest at his neck. That doesn't seem to be enough and Joe tangles his trembling fingers in Nicky’s hair while the other arm tightens around his waist. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Joe’s whisper is so quiet that Nicky almost misses it. </p><p>Nicky sighs and kisses his boyfriend’s shoulder, inhaling deeply. He smells of sweat, coconut shampoo, and that note that’s so distinctively <i>Joe</i>. </p><p>“I am now.”</p><p>It’s unclear who out of the two of them needs to be comforted at this point, but Nicky is more than willing to forgo his own misfortune to help Joe bury his old wounds all over again. </p><p>Frankly, he’s not even all that fazed by what happened. He is surprised it took this much time to have any sort of physical confrontation with Keane. That one and only time they ran into each other a few weeks ago in the administration building barely even qualified as a meeting. And yet he wanted to pull Keane’s teeth out then just the same.</p><p>That bastard keeps finding ways to mess with them, like a nightmarish bully on the playground who digs sticks in anthills and rips wings off butterflies.</p><p>If Joe isn’t going to cave Keane’s face in at some point, Nicky sure as hell will.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It takes them an embarrassing amount of time to pull away from the hug. It's done so with many sighs on both parts and hands roaming reassuringly over backs and shoulders. </p><p>They need this sort of mutual physical comfort more than they need air to breathe.</p><p>Nicky ends up telling him what happened. All of it. He watches Joe’s face go through the same kaleidoscope of emotions as a moment ago, raging from concern, to hurt, to pure fury. Nicky hates making him go through this but keeping the details from Joe would feel like a betrayal. </p><p>And they’ve agreed - no secrets. </p><p>Joe then switches into full protective mode, dragging Nicky back to the bathroom despite his protests and making him sit on the closed lid of the toilet. Nicky obeys, because of course he does, and watches as Joe fishes out a small plastic container with first aid kit items. It’s not one of those fancy sets but rather a collection of their respective supplies they piled when they moved in together.</p><p>Joe proceeds to gently treat Nicky’s cut on the lips, this time with something other than just tap water. It takes him a while but he manages to find a half-empty tube of antibiotic ointment and dabs it gently onto Nicky’s wound. Joe’s movements are deliberate but tense and Nicky realizes it’s probably out of fear of injuring Nicky even more. Hardly a possibility, as just Joe’s presence alone is enough to put the broken pieces of Nicky back together. Mentally, at least.</p><p>He doesn’t realize he’s fidgeting in his seat until Joe places a hand on his shoulder. </p><p>“Sit still,” Joe tells him with a faint hint of a smile that nearly makes Nicky sob in relief. </p><p>“Your hands are on me,” Nicky replies as if that’s supposed to be a fine justification. And well, it <i>is</i>.</p><p>Joe huffs through his nose. “No kissing for a while, I’m afraid,” he says and pecks Nicky on his forehead when he’s done applying the ointment. Nicky, ever a stubborn man, reaches his neck up to chase after Joe’s lips, but the man leans back with a smirk just in time.</p><p>Nicky frowns. “That’s not fair.”</p><p>Joe folds his arms across his chest and looks at his boyfriend with the go-to amused grin. Nicky is so happy to see it that within seconds he stops caring about the missed make-out opportunity.</p><p>“What’s not fair is you wearing my hoodie. <i>Again.</i>”</p><p>Nicky stands up and purposely stretches his arms above his head, making the edge of the hoodie ride up to expose the smooth panes of his lower belly. He definitely enjoys how Joe’s eyes widen at the sight. </p><p>“You were saying?” Nicky lets his voice drop low, the tell-tale sign for when things are about to turn R-rated.</p><p>For a moment they both allow themselves to think of something other than the elephant in the room. If shameless flirting is going to achieve some level of temporary normality, Nicky is more than willing to oblige.</p><p>Joe clears his throat and lets his arms fall down from his chest. He quickly makes a good use of them by pulling Nicky close by the hips and sneaking his hands underneath the back of the hoodie.</p><p>“Wear this, <i>only this</i>, for the rest of our lives and you will never hear me complain about anything, ever.”</p><p>Nicky has to stop himself at the very last second from biting down on his swollen lip.</p><p>“Deal.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Sneaking out of their flat is easy. Nicky has promptly flopped down on the bed and proceeded to browse through the less-than-impressive Netflix inventory on their battered TV, his eyes heavy and movement lethargic.</p><p>Joe waits until Nicky is almost dozing off when he finally says he’s going out to get him an ice pop. He’s read online that it should help reduce the swelling. Joe’s not even sure Nicky heard him, if his incoherent mumbles are anything to go by as he slides down on a pillow and curls into a fetal position, smushing the good side of his face against the fluffy white material.</p><p>It speaks volumes how exhausted Nicky must be when he falls asleep within the next twenty seconds.</p><p>Joe’s plan to leave is derailed by the sight of Nicky looking so small, vulnerable, and unlike the shit-talking charmer he fell in love with. It physically hurts to see him reduced to this and Joe has successfully convinced himself it’s all his fault.</p><p>Nicky would probably say he is wrong to think that and Joe wouldn’t have believed him. Everything Keane-related is his fault and Joe is done playing nice.</p><p>Keane already messed with Nicky twice.</p><p>He will not get a third chance. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Joe rings the doorbell. The sound is shallow and dull and on point with the overall lifeless interior of the building. It’s hard to think of it as anything other than a collection of crack dens, with the occasional shouts down the hallway and the lingering stench of weed and alcohol.</p><p>Joe toes an old cigarette bud from under his feet in disgust and not a second too late before the door finally opens. </p><p>Keane is a mess in his disheveled dirty clothes, accurately capturing what a low-life he is. There are empty beer bottles scattered around the floor and maybe back in the old days Joe would have scowled and said something about it.</p><p>But now all he does is ball up his right hand into a fist and land a single knock-out punch to Keane’s face before he even gets a chance to finish saying Joe’s name.</p><p>He folds in on himself and falls on the ground, his foot sending a bottle rolling until it clunks against the wall. He passes out and Joe feels no remorse whatsoever.</p><p>“Play dead, motherfucker.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“This feels strangely familiar.”</p><p>Nicky and Joe are in their bathroom again, this time with the former playing the role of a nurse. He’s found a folded rickety chair somewhere and is currently sitting in front of Joe, turning over his hand. He tries not to react to the bruised knuckles and the split skin, yet his rapid breathing is not making it easy. What worries Nicky usually ends up worrying Joe and the vicious cycle never stops. So he settles on trying to keep it entirely practical. As long as Nicky believes it, maybe his hands will stop shaking, too.</p><p>“Nicky,” comes Joe’s pleading voice.</p><p>Nicky allows himself a few more seconds of inspecting the wound before he finally looks up.</p><p>“I had to do it,” Joe says, though his eyes reveal the guilt within. Not the guilt for knocking Keane out unconscious but for the look on Nicky’s face when he finally came back home a few minutes ago with a bloody hand pressed against his chest.</p><p>Nicky exhales and nods. “I know. If you hadn’t, I sure would have.”</p><p>“That’s why I did it. I’d rather have this thing make a full circle back to me than get you involved again.”</p><p>“I’m already involved.” <i>With you</i>.</p><p>A part of Nicky tells himself that he should be pissed. Should yell and stomp at Joe’s reckless behavior that could potentially have disastrous effects on his future. If Keane is as crafty as they think he is, he could turn it to his advantage and screw them over even more.</p><p>But then there’s also that voice in the back of his head that has not stopped chanting ‘<i>hallelujah</i>’ since the moment Joe came clean about what he did.</p><p>Which is probably why Nicky doesn’t utter a word of complaint for the entire time he treats Joe’s bruised knuckles. He’s nothing but grateful when Joe hands him an apple ice pop he has bought on his way from Keane’s and stashed away in the freezer before they went to the bathroom.</p><p>Nicky doesn’t want to be satisfied with how this all turned out, with Joe defending his honor and injuring himself in the process. And yet he can’t help but notice how it has lifted some weight off both of their shoulders. Perhaps in a naive notion, he figures this could be the end of their ongoing war with Keane. Hopefully the man isn’t stupid enough to drag this out for much longer. The usual non-confrontational Joe smashing his face should be enough of a hint to leave them the hell alone.</p><p>He lets himself believe it as they sit sideways on their bed, propped against a wall and watching a cliche rom com on TV. Nicky is still munching on his ice pop, relishing the way it has numbed the swollen side of his face. He also may enjoy a bit too much the few glances he gets from Joe every now and then at the suggestive sounds he makes.</p><p>No wonder Joe waits exactly three seconds after Nicky is done with the ice pop to turn off the TV and attack Nicky’s neck with his lips, his body vibrating as a deep growl rumbles through him. Nicky feels it to his very bones and he does bite his lip then with little care about reopening his wound. He lets Joe guide him down on the bed before he nestles himself in between Nicky’s propped legs. Nicky wastes no time to wrap his lower limbs around Joe’s waist, earning a low chuckle from the man.</p><p>“Eager, are we?” Joe purrs, running his left hand from Nicky’s bare knee, up his thighs and under the rim of his boxers. Joe’s boxers.</p><p>The fact that Nicky is dressed solely in his boyfriend’s clothing, including the <i>OGC Fencing</i> hoodie, doesn’t seem to escape Joe’s attention. His eyes sparkle as if he’s just found his new favorite kink.</p><p>“I did say I wanted to have you wear it all the time, didn’t I?” Joe asks as he runs his hand around Nicky’s thigh to sneak in between the man and the bed to promptly squeeze his ass. Nicky’s hips buckle as a shot of arousal travels straight to his dick and he needs a moment before he can form words into sentences.</p><p>“I do recall you making that request,” Nicky replies once he finally knows how to speak and slowly rolls his hips, not letting Joe have the upper hand that easily. With his legs raised and wrapped around Joe, he’s provided them with the perfect angle to rub against each other in reckless abandon. </p><p>It gets the desired effect and Joe throws his head back and his chest heaves as he too needs a moment to compose himself. </p><p>Soon, he’s back to his previous task and shoots Nicky a grin that can only mean trouble.</p><p>Joe continues to caress his butt in rhythm with Nicky’s sinful hip rolls but Nicky needs more. So much more. He needs Joe’s electrifying touch all over his body, taking him apart and putting him back together again with passionate kisses.</p><p>He winces in protest when Joe pulls his hand out of his boxers but it quickly turns into a moan of satisfaction when he uses that hand to prop himself on Nicky’s shoulder. Joe leans down to nibble at an ear. He goes even lower until they’re chest-to-chest, Nicky's legs sprawled to the sides with Joe laying on top of him. He’s taking some of the weight off Nicky by leaning on his bent elbow but Nicky wouldn’t mind at all to be consumed by the delightful unobstructed pressure of Joe’s body.</p><p>With the last remnants of his sound mind, Nicky notices how Joe’s injured hand remains passive on the pillow above his head. </p><p>He frowns. “Hey Joe?”</p><p>His lover hums in response, currently very busy licking his way down Nicky’s neck.</p><p>“Next time use a baseball bat.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>